Pour Away the Ocean
by belongtoyourselfagain
Summary: Years pass following the Battle of Five Armies, and Kili and Bilbo's developing relationship faces the challenge of mortality. "Nothing happened in the brief period between finding Bilbo and losing Bilbo. Maybe if something had, things would have turned out differently."


**This story was originally written for the hobbit kink meme on livejournal. The original prompt asked to see the effect of mortality on Bilbo's relationship with one of the dwarves, but this ended up turning into "everything that can possibly seem okay but actually goes terribly wrong with Bilbo and Kili" rather than "everyone angsts about mortality." Please enjoy, and C&C is welcome and appreciated.**

* * *

Kili walks away from the Battle of Five Armies with the rush of immortality in his veins. He's covered in blood, both of him and his enemies, but his sword flashes in the light of early dawn and he laughs with reckless abandon at Death. Fili, as always, is at his side, and together they watch as Thorin Oakenshield reclaims the Lonely Mountain, this time with the support of the Mirkwood elves and the men of Esgaroth. In the hours that follow, they locate each of the members of the company, one by one, starting with Dwalin, who never strayed far from their king, and ending with Bilbo, who seems to flicker back into existence ages after the battle was over and sends the search party into a combination of relieved cheers and angry reprimands.

As Bilbo sheepishly stands at the center of their circle, sputtering some excuse, Kili acts on impulse and steps forward, enfolding him in a tight embrace. Even when he's quickly pushed away and replaced by others, Kili feels the twist of something deep inside- the confirmation of a suspicion he's had ever since crossing the Misty Mountains.

* * *

Nothing happened in the brief period between finding Bilbo and losing Bilbo. Maybe if something had, things would have turned out differently.

* * *

The bustle surrounding the restoration of the Kingdom under the Mountain is such that Bilbo's departure is just one very small event among the many. Thorin clasps Bilbo's hand and tells him that no matter what had come to pass, he will forever be a comrade to the Dwarves and a member of their company. Kili does nothing, says nothing, for nothing is adequate compared to the weight of his king's words and nothing can match the bitterness in the back of his throat. He should have known that Bilbo would be returning to Bag End. Bilbo had helped them get their home back (not entirely- Kili still knows the cramped and narrow hallways leading to his mother's hearth in the Blue Mountains better than the overwhelming halls of Erebor), and now he could go back to his home. Kili does not attempt to dissuade him- he just puts back on his usual smile, turns, and fades back into the commotion.

It takes about two years for the Kingdom under the Mountain to regain its former glory. The damage sustained by the dragon is repaired by master craftsmen from the Iron Hills, dignitaries from numerous nations arrive to recognize Thorin's rule and establish trade relations, and Kili, despite his heart's yearning to journey more, never strays far due to his sense of duty to his family. Things are difficult in the simple way. With Thorin's stubbornness tempered by the alliance formed against the goblins and wargs and Balin's wise advice as guidance, Erebor has no (overt) obstructions from within or without. Kili struggles with the boredom of being confined to the Lonely Mountain alone, almost wishing for the challenge of a new enemy.

He does wish for Bilbo to be at his side again, more than anything. Their group feels incomplete, and worse yet, he feels unsatisfied. It first manifests in a paranoia stemming from his tendency to always check for Bilbo during their journey, searching for a shadow that is no longer there. The piercing disappointment from remembering Bilbo's departure turns into a throbbing ache that plagues him during his waking hours, not as sharp but no less intrusive.

Then one day, nearly ten years after everything has settled down, Balin returns from a diplomatic tour of the West. Among his reports, he mentions a brief visit to the Shire and Bilbo part-way through, and Kili goes still.

He does not deliberate. He decides.

* * *

It's a calm evening in Hobbiton. A cool breeze brushes the fringes of scarecrows and stirs weathervanes, but all else is quiet. Suddenly there is a crash, a shattering of glass and a figure entering through what was formerly a window. A flurry of movement, and then nothing.

Kili groans from where he has landed on his back on the floor of Bag End. He can hear his pony running wild down the road, and he internally curses it for bucking him and himself for choosing the first one at hand, but those thoughts abruptly slide away as he senses a presence above him. Looking up, he sees a familiar blade pointed at his throat. He comments on the pocket knife's continued sharpness.

A stiff voice from above points out that the pocket knife has gotten him out of many pinches in the past.

Then, a hand replaces the weapon, laughter replaces dialogue, and Kili rolls over and allows himself to be helped up. Neither of them can stop grinning, and the hug that follows is a bit too tight for Bilbo's preference and isn't close enough for Kili's. Kili keeps a hand on the hobbit's shoulder as Bilbo leads him into the dining room. Bilbo makes an offhand comment about the broken window that Kili delightfully recognizes as a joke. Bilbo has changed from the first time they met, and hasn't since they last saw each other.

With flagons of ale in hand, they talk through the night. The events surrounding the Shire aren't much interest to Kili, and Bilbo hastily changes subjects the moment he notices the winner of the harvest's pumpkin-growing contest is putting the dwarf to sleep. Instead, he reaches back into his memory and pulls out the tale of his adventure home- not nearly as dangerous or exciting as the voyage out, but still thrilling nevertheless. They had been ambushed on the rare occasion by groups of scattered goblins, with Gandalf slaying by the dozen with sword and staff, Beorn swatting them aside like flies, and even Bilbo getting in his fair share of kills. Kili is especially engaged in the description of the Yule-tide celebration at Beorn's house, but grows disgusted when he hears of the state Bag End was in upon Bilbo's return.

Then, it's his turn. If the descriptions of the interior and riches of Erebor, which Kili is now intimately acquainted with, glaze Bilbo's eyes over, Kili doesn't notice. They're all he knows. Bilbo is already familiar with the statuses of the other dwarves from Balin's visit, but an update on old friends is always welcome.

The fire is dying in the hearth by the time the two decide to retire. Kili chooses a spare bedroom of his liking before Bilbo can offer, but Bilbo only says that he hopes it's better than the last time Kili was here.

Kili only takes advantage of Bilbo's hospitality and pantry through the late morning. He left the Lonely Mountain without much notice, and besides pacifying his uncle and brother, doesn't want to be on the road in the middle of winter. It's unreasonable that he should come all this way for less than a day, but since when has Kili ever been reasonable? Bilbo accepts this as an excuse and waves him out the door. Just before Kili leaves, Bilbo shoots a look over at the remains of glass he has yet to clean up, and says that Kili is the most interesting him to happen to him in quite a while.

Really, if Kili stays any longer, he would never want to leave.

* * *

Approaching the front gates of Erebor on foot, Kili feels a wave of dread wash over him. Now that he has had more than a moment to reflect on his actions, the prospect of disappointing his uncle with his rash choice is extremely unappetizing. Those were the worst times on the journey to reclaim their home, and this outing was more than just an ignorant comment or a slight disagreement. Still, he refuses to regret it, and steps into the kingdom with his head high and shoulders back.

He's surprised when no one instantly comes to reprimand him, and only receives any acknowledgement of his absence when he enters the chamber he shares with his brother. There's a letter on his bedside table that simply informs him to find Fili the moment he gets back. Kili wonders now long that's been there, and how long Fili has had to look at that.

It doesn't take too long to find him, Fili being the type to stick to a schedule when ordered. Kili strides into one of the smaller conference rooms, all false confidence especially when he sees the bemused smile on Fili's face.

He should have known that even with their recent distance, Fili knows him better than anyone else. Under the guise of official business, his brother informs him that he has been appointed to a unit in charge of providing peripheral protection to the dwarves of the Blue Mountain as part of the resettlement process. Just because they had eradicated most of the goblins following the battle doesn't mean that there were no more dangers, and these dwarves would be traveling with heavy loads. It isn't a long-term duty, at most thirty years, but it should be sufficient for further field experience. Retrieving a map from an inner pocket, he taps a gap by the southernmost-part of the Blue Mountains and Dunland and designates it as Kili's assigned territory.

It is just below the Shire.

Kili laughs, loud and clear, and then takes the map in hand to get a better look. He demands to know when he will be setting off.

He'll be going in the next year or two, if everything goes as planned. As Kili walks out, still clutching the chart, Fili calls after him, requesting that he establish relations with the Rangers in the area, if he has the time. Kili grins at the final dig, but recognizes a command from Thorin when given.

* * *

And thus he turns up at Bag End again earlier than either of them had expected, though this time on the doorstep. The resettlement takes place in waves, such that there is a satisfactory break in between patrols that is more than adequate for a brief outing to Bilbo's (although the dwarves are prepared for danger at all times). He settles his duty of meeting with the captain of the Rangers, who is grim in appearance despite his youth and wastes no time in working out an agreement between them and the dwarves, and besides the occasional courtesy visit never needs to set time aside for them. So to Bag End he goes, regardless of time of day or season, and Bilbo never fails to greet him.

Kili doesn't bother with formal greetings at this point, and takes off his hood and hangs it up himself. He cleans his own messes and those of his pony that he keeps tethered outside. He helps Bilbo sort his books and maps, following every detailed instruction to the letter. If he doesn't assist in preparing meals, it's because Bilbo wants to regulate how food he loses per trip. It's quiet and ordinary, but if Kili first fell in love with Bilbo for his unexpected bravery, he falls in love with him again for his laugh, the noises he makes when he is deep in thought, his song-writing, and the way he tiptoes around the house when he thinks Kili is still sleeping in the morning, all of which come more often in times of security.

When it's time to return to his post, Kili gathers all of his possessions that somehow get scattered around the hole and reorganizes his pack. He secretly checks to make sure that the pantry is still mostly well-stocked before making the most noise possible on his way to the door. Bilbo comes scurrying out from wherever he's been to extend the proper goodbyes, and after Kili promises his return, he shuts the door behind him.

* * *

On his third visit to Bag End during assignment he eats Bilbo all out of meat-pies.

* * *

One evening while preparing tea, Bilbo asks him if he always comes here during his breaks, putting on an air of annoyance.

Of course he does. Where else would he want to be, Kili responds earnestly.

Maybe it's the firelight, but a bit of color seems to come to Bilbo's cheeks and he shuffles away, mumbling something about fetching more tarts.

* * *

The front door opens to reveal a bloody and disheveled Kili. Bilbo starts at the sight, at this point only used to blood in small accidents or at the butcher's, and goes to pull Kili inside for medical treatment. Kili brushes him off, denying that he is wounded. He doesn't have much time. On his way here, he had encountered a wolf on the outskirts of the Shire. Kili tells him that while he had taken care of it, he must meet with the Rangers immediately and get this matter sorted out, for the safety of both hobbits and dwarves.

Bilbo nods and draws back, understanding the urgency, but then Kili snaps forward and grips him tightly by the wrist. He orders Bilbo to have Sting at hand and not to go out at night until this was resolved. Bilbo stiffens, yet before he can protest Kili acknowledges that Bilbo can protect himself- he just needs to be certain of his safety.

With this final remark, Kili withdraws and heads for his pony and the attached wolf carcass hidden up the road and out of sight. He doesn't know how long Bilbo stands there on his front porch, pulse racing from the suddenness of it all and wrist still warm from where Kili's fingers made contact, despite the frigid winter.

* * *

Bilbo announces that he's getting quite the poor reputation for always having dwarves over, and he can no longer go to the market without receiving the most awful whispers.

Kili asks if he minds.

Bilbo goes quiet for a while, taking the time to blow a smoke ring that lingers in the air between them before dissipating. No, he eventually says softly, he doesn't think he does.

* * *

Whenever Kili finds some relic of their adventure lying about (usually some bit of Troll-hoard treasure stuffed in a chest), conversation transitions into their respective retellings of events. The recollections never last very long, as they usually dissolve into arguments on how things actually played out. This time, the subject was their temporary imprisonment in the Misty Mountains, and for once Kili thinks the tale will come to an agreeable end, seeing as they were separated for the vast majority of the incident.

Bilbo hasn't offered many corrections since the start, even when Kili assures that he and Fili thoroughly investigated the cave, and when they reach the part when Bilbo was isolated from the rest of the company, Bilbo becomes shifty and offers his usual explanation. The tea kettle whistles just as Kili is recalling the near miss with the Great Goblin, complete with hand gestures and dramatic voices, and for now the story is put aside.

Later, as the sun is setting, Bilbo says he has something he needs to show him. Kili wonders whether it's his newest composition or an explanation for his strange behavior earlier when Bilbo hesitantly pulls out a shiny gold ring from his pocket. Having seen scores of its type (and many more elaborate besides), Kili does not pay much attention to it until Bilbo tells him to watch carefully before taking a deep breath, slipping it on, and vanishing altogether.

Kili blinks, astonished, and wonders if it's some trick of the light before Bilbo reappears, ring back in hand. Kili shouts in wonder, calling it incredible. He wants to know how it was possible and who made it.

Bilbo simply says that it is a magic ring and that it came to him.

Kili eagerly asks if he can try it on.

Unexpectedly, Bilbo shrinks back and hides the ring from view. He stammers, offering excuses for why he can't hand it over.

At the betrayed expression on his face, Kili quickly backtracks, claiming that it wouldn't fit on his finger anyway. Even as he yields, he feels a twisted longing stirring inside him, a darker greed than he's felt for any gold or person. It almost consumes him before he shakes it off, laughing and saying that this explained a lot about how he was able to get out of so many messes.

Bilbo smiles, full of relief and trust, and Kili thinks crushing that desire was worth it for that expression.

* * *

There's a crashing noise in the kitchen. If Kili hadn't already been in the room, he would have run in, arrow notched, but as it is he simply lays down his seed cake and goes to help clean up the remains of the broken glass. Bilbo shoos him away, saying it's his fault, and angles his body so that his back prevents Kili from interfering. Kili leans over anyway, scoffing at the stubbornness of hobbits, but halts short at the sight before him.

At first he believes the entire room has just been whitewashed by the morning light, but upon further inspection, Bilbo's dressing gown is the same haphazard collection of dark hues and the dining table is its usual rustic brown. Yet it's as if he hasn't looked at Bilbo properly before now- or at least he has been only seeing the Bilbo from twenty years ago. Kili resists the urge to extend his hand and touch the pale grey hairs on Bilbo's head, to trace the bags of skin gathering at the corner of his jaw. Instead of filling his body with warmth and fondness as it usually does, it tears at something in his chest, and he withdraws back to his chair, pretending like he hasn't seen anything.

* * *

Every so often he is forced to return to Erebor to give his formal report. It's usually a nice, brief reason to see his family again and breathe the mountain air, with Kili always eager to return to the road partway through, but this time he believes he is ready for a break. He treats the guards to drinks, compliments Ori on his latest sketches, and harasses Elrohir and Elladan from the shadows until they realize it's him, and then all sorts of mayhem take place before Dwalin puts a stop to it (of course, he completes all official business as expected). One afternoon, he finds himself lounging in a corner while his brother is looking over food and drink transactions when Fili casually asks how their burglar is doing.

Kili remarks that Bilbo has never looked finer, having all of his wits about him but still sadly lacking a beard.

He is getting on in years, Fili states with an underlying weight.

Kili scoffs at that, examining a bottle of wine recently sent from Mirkwood and wondering whether he could sneak it back to the Shire. If anyone was to live forever, it would be the esteemed Mr. Baggins.

Fili suddenly says his name, so sharply that Kili stops messing with the bottle. Hobbits have much shorter lifespans than dwarves. Surely Kili hadn't wasted all of his time and forgotten that?

Anger flickers inside of Kili, but he represses it. He can't look directly at Fili though, and he thinks that some of his emotions come through on his face.

Fili sighs, and turns away. He mentions something about having hoped to visit Bag End at least once, and it's the pity in his voice that is the final straw. Kili gets up and storms away, rage rushing through him. As if he isn't aware of what is happening before his eyes, what he is unable to prevent. As if he doesn't know what little time they have left together. Each day that he has with Bilbo is another one he spends observing the hobbit slowly but surely age, another one he loses to the effects of time. All he can do is watch as Bilbo changes while he remains the untouched.

As the distance between him and his brother increases, Kili feels his anger drain away. It is replaced by something much more dangerous: fear.

* * *

The parlor is silent save for the sound of a scratching quill. Bilbo and Kili sit across from each other, separated by a table, piles of parchment, and a lantern. The single candle is the only source of light on this dark, warm summer night, and all it does is serve to exaggerate the wrinkles on Bilbo's face as he pens his latest composition. Kili has a book open, but he's never been one for reading, and for now all of his attention is focused on the person in front of him.

He gazes at the faint veins visible at Bilbo's wrists, counts how many times Bilbo has to readjust his quill per phrase. Occasionally Bilbo's hand twitches, causing small spikes in his writing, but Kili doesn't say anything. Then, at the end of a line, it abruptly jerks, knocking the ink well over and sending black liquid spilling over the side of the table. Bilbo goes to right it, but instead Kili reaches out and gently takes Bilbo's trembling hand. The spasms continue for some minutes before ceasing, and Bilbo's breathing gradually evens out as he gets used to the soft touch and the intense stare directed at him, illuminated by the flickering flame. The hours pass, yet Kili still holds on.

* * *

When Bilbo turns ninety and looks no worse than he did at eighty, Kili considers it a sign. No matter what his brother said, this has to be some sort of blessing of their bond (it's easy to say, and even easier to believe since Kili so desperately wishes it to be so). Kili isn't in the Shire for the event himself, helping repair a broken cart-wheel for an elderly dwarf and dreaming of a fireside, a wooden pipe, and a wry smile elsewhere, but on the evening he arrives there's a small celebration with cold chicken, buttercream-frosted cake, and wine before Bilbo tells him they'll be going on a brief trip the next day without offering any further details.

Morning comes early, and by the time Kili rises with the rooster's call Bilbo is already prepared, leather pack on his back and his old walking stick tapping the floorboards. Kili offers the use of his pony over a hurried breakfast, but Bilbo waves it off, saying he's still young enough for a bit of exercise. Something in Kili jumps at this, an unwarranted optimism, and he immediately sets aside his dishes, eager to set off.

They turn left out the door and head down the Hill. Bilbo greets several of his neighbors, who give the pair their usual odd looks before shaking their heads, but neither of them pays them any mind. Soon enough they're approaching, weaving through, and vacating Bywater. The town is bright with its profits from the harvest and full of busy hobbits and peddlers, yet they leave it behind without a second thought, caught up in their own conversations and worlds created with words.

They start off on the Road, but Bilbo's feet take them off the path and into the farmland just adjacent. They wander through the tall stalks of wheat glittering golden in the sun, and against the blue sky, Kili can pretend they're leaving on another journey. He imagines crossing mountain ranges, fighting savage beasts with battle cries and feats of bravery, voyaging all the way to the sea where they become the horizon. Then, Bilbo's hand slips into his, and everything returns to that little field in the Shire, and everything is right.

It takes them nearly half the day, with breaks for meals, to get to their destination. At some point, the acres of grain yield to more gently sloping land, and they emerge to see a great smial built into a low hill. Bilbo tells Kili that this is Brandy Hall, and they are here to visit someone very important. Without warning, the front door bursts open and a dark-haired blur comes dashing out and collides with Bilbo. Kili is about to pull it off him when Bilbo laughs and introduces his cousin (or something along those lines) Frodo to Kili.

They spend an hour with Frodo, checking up on his schooling and that he has been behaving properly (that is, with the proper amount of mischief) before Bilbo pats him on the head and says they must be off. Both Kili and Frodo protest- Kili seeing much of himself in the younger hobbit's attitude, but with an air of innocence he was never able to pull off-but the day is dragging on. Bilbo leaves Frodo with a gift retrieved from his pack, and then they are off again.

Not too long after Brandy Hall slips out of sight, Bilbo insists on stopping for a moment to catch his breath. He and Kili break apart, and he settles down on a rock for a sip of water. A cool Autumn wind rushes through the hills and Kili catches Bilbo shivering. He offers Bilbo his overcoat, refusing to give up until Bilbo accepts it. As Kili fastens the buttons for him, Bilbo admits that he is thinking of adopting Frodo. Not quite yet- he doesn't have the energy to handle a child, especially one as spirited as Frodo- but perhaps when he's closer of age. This surprises Kili. He has never heard of the younger cousin until today, and now Bilbo is sounding as if he's put a lot of thought into it.

Well, Bilbo says, he has to pass Bag End on to someone when he passes on. And if it's to a decent hobbit like Frodo and not his other bothersome relatives, all the better.

Kili's hands still from where they're adjusting the collar at Bilbo's throat. He has considered age to be an unspeakable topic between them; he had thought Bilbo understood that. He tries to laugh Bilbo's comment and the tightness within him off before ruffling Bilbo's hair like he used to do all the time, and starts down the path again without waiting for him. Bilbo quickly scrambles to his feet and follows.

They take the Road back to Hobbiton. As the sun creeps across the sky, the air gets colder and Bilbo's pace slows down. They have to stop many more times, and once Bilbo jokes that he may be getting too old for this adventuring business. Kili doesn't respond, can't even look at him for the rest of the trip. He stays several steps ahead, only glancing back to make sure that Bilbo hasn't fallen behind.

Every part of him is consumed by fear, and suddenly he doesn't want to watch Bilbo age anymore. If he turns away, he doesn't have to see it happen, can pretend like nothing is happening.

The sun has set by the time they arrive back at the Hill, and Kili hurries Bilbo into Bag End so that he can remove all traces of this trip by starting a fire and getting Bilbo warmed up. As he sets up the wood in the hearth, he hears Bilbo's voice, low and subdued, from behind him. Besides, Bilbo says, very few dwarves were passing through the Shire nowadays. Nearly all of them had to be living in the Lonely Mountain by now, and Kili may be departing very soon. He doesn't fancy being alone again.

Kili finds himself on his feet, shaking with emotion and lashing out with every repressed feeling he's had for the past years. He doesn't want to be alone again? What about him? What was he supposed to do after Bilbo leaves? How was he supposed to spend the rest of his life?

Bilbo doesn't say anything for a very long time, and Kili can't bear to bring himself to look at whatever crestfallen expression he's put on Bilbo's face. He stumbles past Bilbo to retrieve his pack, and abandons anything else still in Bag End when he flies out the door. It's a cold and difficult ride back to the wild that night.

* * *

Not too long after, a timeline is sent to all of the dwarven posts in the West. Bilbo was right; the resettlement process was nearly complete, and soon they would be returning to the Lonely Mountain with their kin.

But before that could even take place, Kili receives an urgent letter from his brother. Thorin is sick- an illness is ravaging his body and has left him weak and confined to his bed. If his condition gets any worse, Fili will be taking over the ruling of the kingdom, and he desperately needs him to be there to stand by his side. Kili wastes no time in packing up his belongings and saddling his pony. He only leaves behind a brief note of explanation to be delivered to Bilbo.

He tells himself he's not running from anything.

* * *

By the time Kili arrives back at the Lonely Mountain, Fili has taken over as temporary regent. The mood has drastically changed since he was last here, with advisors and guards swarming him as suddenly his relation to the throne becomes relevant. Fili argues in hushed tones with foreign dignitaries, insisting that none of their relations should change should Thorin recover or pass on. Thorin himself is gruff with all that come to visit him, silent whenever he believes no one to be watching.

If Kili thinks he's too young to be forced into ceremonial garb and shoved into the back of important meetings, he cannot imagine how Fili feels. Under these conditions, when the prior king is still alive, but weak and bedridden, and one has obtained said position without any especial valor of his own, it must be terribly daunting. So Kili strives to be the best support possible, for his brother who has been alone for so long. He pays close attention to the style of affairs, thoughtfully offers his opinion without seeming too arrogant or withdrawn, and ignores the rumors that he is too inexperienced, that he was just a prince from the wild, that Thorin hasn't married so that he can pass the kingdom onto his nephews, and now they are going to send it to its ruin. He works and works to replace the pain in his chest.

Several years in he receives a battered envelope from a merchant who has been in the Shire recently. He recognizes Bilbo's neat handwriting instantly, but not the stiffness of the message. In rigid letters, Bilbo tells him that he understands. Kili has a sense of duty to his family. Kili must fulfill his role as third-in-line to the throne. Bilbo hopes Thorin will get better. Bilbo's door will always be open to any member of the company.

* * *

Kili doesn't leave the Lonely Mountain for nearly forty years.

* * *

In the dead of night, leaking into the early hours of the morning when the moon is preparing to greet the dawn, Kili rechecks the weapon inventory in the armory. It's become a habit, something to preoccupy him when he cannot sleep and serves as a balm for his recent bout of paranoia. He doesn't know when he started having these late-night sessions, needing to make sure each tool of war is accounted for and in its proper place, but he suspects it was sometime in between Thorin succumbing to his illness and the realization that he had been living in the Lonely Mountain longer than he had been at Bag End, and that was unlikely to change.

His time with Bilbo had been only temporary- he had known that from the start. And now his place was here, and he must be unshakable. Even Thorin's death, a reminder that the greatest can perish by the most uncontrollable of events, didn't move him. He wasn't allowed to mourn for very long either, for the moment Thorin was laid to rest in the burial chambers of their ancestors, and the remembrance songs recalling his victories in battle and strength of heart ended, Kili and Fili had to resume working.

But now there are dark mutterings all around them- not of the state of the Lonely Mountain itself, which Fili has successfully transitioned from one reign into the next, but of things lurking at their borders. Skirmishes along the Road are becoming more common, merchants have encountered shady types in their routes to the South, and during the few times the Mirkwood elves have stopped by as of late, they have always mentioned a shadow growing in the distance and within the hearts of all in Middle Earth. Relations with the elves, and with all of their allies, are more tenuous, and Kili can't say that it's due to aggression on just one side.

He can see all of the pieces in front of him, but he can't figure out what they mean. Or if they mean anything. He wishes Oin was here, Oin who read the signs those years ago, but Oin left some time before with Balin and Ori, headed for Moria to reclaim the lost kingdom. Kili sighs, placing a spear to one side and checking the totals again. How many years ago had they last heard from them?

His sorting and thoughts are interrupted by a tentative knock. A guard enters. Kili knows that his habits were well-known among those also stationed at night, but for both of them to acknowledge his eccentricities is unusual. He's informed that there is a peculiar messenger at the gates who will only speak to him or his brother. Kili rises and follows him back to the entrance hall.

A horseman, clothed all in black, waits outside, and Kili resists the urge to shudder, for it was like a cold wind was suddenly blowing through him. If possible, the messenger's words are more chilling. A Lord Sauron was asking for friendship. For information on hobbits and their whereabouts, for they were familiar with one, yes? For a thief and a small trinket, in exchange for the cherished rings of old and the kingdom of Moria.

Years ago, Kili would have spat in his face and threatened to put an arrow through his skull if he even thought about harming Bilbo. But this night he has the advantage of distance and a hardened heart on his side, so he simply asks for time, and rebuffs the messenger until he rides away. As Kili watches the figure disappear into the darkness, his pulse continues to race in his ears, and it takes a couple shaken guards calling his name to snap him out of it. He whirls around and leaves them without explanation.

Kili wakes Fili immediately. He repeats their conversation and insists that Bilbo is in danger. This is different from any leisure visit due to his weakness in character. The hint that Moria may not be fully theirs rings in his ears, and Kili doesn't want to lose another companion. He may have run away before, when Bilbo's fate seemed inescapable and terror had driven him, but this time, he could do something against such an apparent threat.

He knows he is still a coward, but none of this is about him.

Kili tells Fili that he will be leaving at dawn, and he will be back as soon as possible. He is not abandoning the Lonely Mountain, no matter how dire things look to him. Kili goes to stand when his brother grabs his arm.

Fili looks him in the eye and tells him not to do anything he will regret.

Kili nods, and then is gone.

* * *

He arrives at Bag End when both stars and moon are shrouded by shade. He dismounts his pony from a distance, stumbling at first from the soreness of the long, hard ride, and runs up to the front door. Kili pounds on the peeling green exterior. When nobody responds, he steps back and breaks the door down with a weathered shoulder.

The only thing that meets him is silence and dust, but Kili presses on. He searches every room, upending furniture and scattering papers. He screams for Bilbo until his throat is sore, and then wails some more. He smashes his fists into the flooring, unable to handle the truth.

Bag End is empty. He was too late, and Bilbo had been taken, or Bilbo had died long ago while he was waiting for Kili to return. Either way, Kili has failed him.

* * *

True to his word, the following morning Kili picks himself up off the ground and rides back toward the Lonely Mountain. His eyes are red-rimmed, shadowed with despair. Both he and his pony are too exhausted for the trip, but maybe if Kili is distracted by his failing body then he won't have to worry about his emotional facilities. Soon, though, he finds another outlet for his anguish. Wargs ambush him early on, teeth snapping at his throat, but the bitter heart of a grieving dwarf is a terrifying thing of its own, and so they are met by cold steel and a painful end. Kili cleans his blade and checks his location. To his suspicion, the wargs have traveled into previously secure territories. He pushes his pony further.

He's crossing the rushing waters of the Hoarwell when a far-off cry attracts his attention. A flock of robins passes overhead, and a voice on the wind tells him to _fly, fly_. Fear pierces Kili through his veil of sorrow, and he knows he has no time.

Days blur into weeks, and still Kili rides with great haste. His pony seems to recognize the urgency, and never falters or lets up on her pace. The gates of Erebor take too long to come into sight, and the atmosphere as he clatters through the streets of Dale is foreboding. At last, he arrives at the dwarven kingdom, and his brother, deep lines etched into his forehead and looking wearier than Kili has even seen him, is already waiting in the entrance hall.

The first thing Fili does is embrace him, for the world has become a very dangerous place even for a dwarf, and then insists that Kili's focus be entirely on Erebor. Kili thinks it is an almost impossible task, when the passage of months has barely eased the weight, but if Fili asks it of him then so it shall be. He nods.

Fili quickly informs him of all that has occurred since his departure, sparing no detail. The messenger came thrice more, and the first two times he went unanswered, and the third and final time he was firmly denied. Fili looks grim but resolved as he tells Kili that they will be proud to face the consequences, alongside the men of Dale to whom they have sworn their protection.

Their enemy, however, is not one to be taken lightly. The power of Mordor had already demonstrated itself in its massacres across the land, and Fili reckons that they will be next. Preparations for war had begun, with weapons and armor forged, supplies stockpiled, and an eye on the horizon. Their ancestors had died for their home, and they will die again to keep it.

They have just over a fortnight to prepare before the horns of Dale split the air one morning. An army from the East has been spotted from the farthest outposts, and so every man and dwarf arms himself for battle while the women and children are evacuated to Erebor. Kili stands as the leader of the archers at the second gate, though if he turns behind him he can see his brother and Brand stationed deeper in the city. The march of foreign soldiers echoes across the valley and stirs the blood in his veins. He draws his bow and readies himself to welcome Death.

* * *

Kili washes the blood from his armor, tipping the basin so that the water gathers gradually on the surface before streaking down the sides of the plates. His body aches, but from only minor injuries already cleaned and bandaged, and he knows it is nothing compared to the agony Fili is enduring in the healing chambers.

They had been greatly outnumbered by the Easterlings, who had come at them with spears, charging horses, and malice. Wave by wave they were forced to retreat until on the third day they reached the gates of Erebor, where in a desperate attempt to give his men enough time to take shelter, Brand had laid down his life. Fili alone had stood, protecting his ally's broken body while Kili had been preparing a smaller force for cover; that is, until Fili was struck by an Easterling's axe in the calf and fell as well. Kili remembers screaming, and dragging his brother back into the Lonely Mountain while the others shielded Brand and found the opportunity to pull him in as the gates closed. It had been a lightless series of days, with Brand's son Bard II stepping forward to inherit his father's title against the backdrop of his burning city, and the announcement that while the King under the Mountain would live, he would never be able to fight again. Bard II and Kili had stood together, two leaders thrust into their positions at the darkest hour.

For seven days they had buried the dead, kept the living sustained with rations and optimism, and observed the enemy. Chance struck on the fifth when Dain Ironfoot had noticed a change in the morale of the Easterlings, shifting from confidence to controlled despondency. They had gathered the troops and lifted the siege, driving them out of Dale and regaining their homes on that cold Spring morning. Kili had returned to Erebor to find Fili in no better condition than before, still ridden with pain and unable to walk. For the moment, he allows himself a moment of peace before he must return to his duties.

The next few months are a whirl of exertion and commotion. Reinforcements on Dale begin almost immediately, yet that soon transitions into its second reconstruction when the war ends, though for the time being the men remain in Erebor. Kili is mostly preoccupied with his brother's health and the repairs, but learns of the details of the war's conclusion through song that spreads all through the West (something about a ring that was destroyed). Fili attempts to convince him to go to the coronation of the King thereafter, knowing several of the honorees (who would have thought that young, grim-faced Ranger and that young, spirited hobbit would become the heroes of the free world), but Kili declines, and sends Dwalin and Dain instead. As the work dwindles down, Kili finds it harder to distract himself from the knowledge of Bilbo's death, and chooses to seal himself off in hopes of restricting the pain. He concentrates on Fili's return to the throne, tries to savor how the air seems clearer and everything is brighter rather than remember that Bilbo is gone.

It works, for the most part. The Lonely Mountain flourishes once more in peacetime, and life is better but a bit wrong in a way that only matters to Kili.

Years pass, yet not as quickly as they used to. One day in mid-Summer, Fili approaches Kili with a letter. He's gotten much better at depending on his staff, and when he first obtained it Kili had only made one weak jab comparing him to a wizard, for it was the worst possible fate for a dwarf to be unable to defend his kin.

Fili tells him that the letter is from Elrond. With a restrained, sad smile on his face, he tells him that Elrond is sending news that Gandalf will be leaving Middle Earth very soon. In fact, he will not be the only one- the elf will be joining him on one of the last ships to depart from the Grey Havens.

Along with a certain hobbit.

The news hits Kili like a blow to the stomach. He cannot breathe. He does not dare to hope.

Kili tries to suffocate the rising emotions. He doesn't understand. He was at Bag End. He_ saw_ the empty vestiges, had to endure the silence of a home that didn't speak back, suffered for so long… but Fili doesn't seem surprised at all. Had he known that Bilbo still lived, said nothing at his brother degraded state?

It's Fili's turn to be perplexed. Gloin had seen him recently at the Council of Elrond, though Kili was on the road at that time. Bilbo has been living in Rivendell with the elves.

Rivendell. Bilbo has been even closer. Bilbo has been _alive_.

Fili tries to move closer, awkward as it is, but Kili instinctively shifts away before regaining control. He's not going to blame Fili. How easy would it be find all the fault with someone other than himself, who shouldn't have even waited this long, who gave up so easily. He places a hand on Fili's arm and asks for the letter.

It affirms everything Fili had said. As he scans it over for a second time, Fili softly asks him about what he is going to do.

Is there even a choice? He has been torn for so long that for him, there was but one option.

* * *

The woods of Southfarthing are dense and painted with vivid hues of deepest scarlet, flaming orange, and sunset yellow. Light filters through the foliage, casting patterns on the forest path, and the last of the songbirds flit from perch to perch in faint melodies. Roots pied with moss emerge temporarily to inhale before burrowing deep into the earth. Kili sees all of these things. He absorbs them, analyzes them, and discards them when they hold no hint of his objective. He digs his heels into his pony's sides and pushes forward, letting his surroundings dissipate into a haze around him.

He doesn't know how long he's been riding, and he doesn't see the shadowy glimmer until he's almost overcome it. The carriage suddenly emerges out as if out of a fog, and Kili has to pull his pony's reins astray so that they do not collide. The vehicle has halted on the side of the path and would look quite ordinary if it wasn't for the hooded figure at the front. Kili dismounts and quickly ties up his pony.

The driver lets out a short chuckle as he approaches, but turns away and does not speak to him otherwise. There are two hobbits sitting just off the road as well; one Kili does not recognize and braces himself in response to the arrival of the stranger, yet the other remains still and possesses the same dark hair and youthful features as the child from Brandy Hall. Today, his eyes are shuttered, brightening barely in combined recognition and confusion upon sight.

Kili asks where he is. The first starts to speak, but then Frodo interrupts, saying he's a little further in the woods, saying goodbye to the Shire. His neck twists and eyes wander to a location off of the road, and so Kili passes them and presses on.

The carriage is still in sight when he first distinguishes him, only the back of an overcoat seated on an old tree stump, causing Kili to stop short for a moment. A leaf breaks free from its branch, and he briefly entertains the notion of giving himself the time it takes for it to drift to the ground before shaking the thought away. With a lump in his throat, he walks up to the bent figure resting. Kili cannot yet bear to look at his face, and he merely manages the phrase, you're going where I can't follow, as brightly as he can.

When Bilbo doesn't respond, Kili takes a deep breath and steps around so that he can fully see him. There's barely any hair left on his head, and what remains is a thin white swept back to completely reveal his ears and forehead. In some patches the skin is pearly and translucent, where it isn't folded over in deep wrinkles, and his slight hands clutch a polished walking stick tightly. His eyes are almost entirely shut, and Kili wonders if Bilbo is even seeing him.

Despite his reservations, Kili kneels down in front of Bilbo and whispers his name. The air in his lungs hitches before Kili can force himself to continue.

He tells Bilbo how important he is, how he's somehow managed to become the center of his world more so than family, gold, or honor. He tells Bilbo about how much fuller ordinary events are when he's around, how cleaning dishes can be transformed into something sacred even when they're not singing, and how much he treasures those times shared between only them. He tells Bilbo that he is his home. He tells Bilbo about the emptiness of the last decades and though he tried, he could never stop thinking about him. He tells Bilbo that he was so afraid of what may come that he told himself to be satisfied with what he had and then, when forced to face that fear directly, ran because he was so, so weak. He tells Bilbo how despite that, he came back, and Bilbo needs to know he will always come back.

As he stops speaking, Kili catches Bilbo muttering something. He bends over to catch the faint words, but only grasps mentions of Frodo and his ring.

Kili withdraws, and then lowers his head so that his growing tears are shrouded. He knows now. Their time is over. Bilbo is moving onward, just as he should be doing. More than anything, Kili has come for a resolution to their miscommunications and the gap between them, and here it is.

It's bitter, this feeling he's trying to swallow. Yet with this distance between them, he cannot pretend that things are any different, as he had done in the past. Bilbo will depart from Middle Earth with the elves, and his memories of those years will be like a dream he has awoken from. But what a dream it has been.

Kili leans forward and presses a kiss on Bilbo's forehead, holding his lips against the skin for a moment before drawing back. This is his final goodbye.

He gets to his feet, says one last parting to Bilbo, and then returns to the road. He unties his pony, mounts, and rides back into the woods, headed for the Lonely Mountain once more.

Kili disappears amidst the peeling bark, hearing only the mourning of the wind and the low sigh of night falling upon the land.

* * *

**-Epilogue: Dreaming of Bag End**

He's been moving for so many days that he has lost track of time. Everything is composed of variations of lights and shadows, drifting in and out of sight, and there's only one thought that keeps wandering back into his head. It's there all the time, whispering in his ear, and sometimes he tries to vocalize this desire, only to lose his words partway through, so overcome he is with longing.

He's going somewhere, though he often cannot remember where. But things are happening too quickly, and he needs a stop even though he barely moves anymore. He wants it.

He wants it. He wants and wants and lets others move him and finally settles down. Time passes, and he can barely feel the air against his face and he wants it and sunlight holds no substance for him. Noise fades alongside the backdrop. He wants it. He wants it, and it rubs at him until that's all he knows.

Then, unexpectedly there's a soft touch upon his forehead, as light as the dewfall in Summer. Warmth unfolds from its center, and he remembers the first time someone had held his hand so gently all of those nights ago, rough skin that had tenderly enclosed his trembling self to convey in simple contact what words could not.

And he recalls all of the times before, and all of the times after with that person. He recalls a bewildering first encounter and even more disorienting adventure following, the content evenings that came much later full of smoking pipes and well-preserved books in front of firesides, and the fear and inability to hold onto what's important to him at the end. They converge to form the most imperfect, extraordinary, precious being he has ever met, and he latches on. Everything else, all previous yearnings, ebb away as his memories flow over him like the incoming tide, sweet and smooth.

Life returns to him, blossoms beneath his feet and flows under his skin. He can smell the petrichor of a recent rain and taste the crisp chill of vibrant leaves. He can hear a voice speaking to him from only steps away.

"Goodbye, my dear Bilbo."

He remembers the quiet love he held and never let go of.

**-end**


End file.
